My Married Neighbor's Greedy Mouth Begs for My Load

The knock came at 11:17 a.m., just like clockwork.

Jake opened the door wearing nothing but a pair of loose black gym shorts that did nothing to hide the thick outline of his cock. Mark stood there in his usual polo and khakis, the wedding band on his left hand catching the hallway light. Forty-two, thick through the chest and gut, salt-and-pepper hair cut short, and eyes that had been starving for weeks.

“Hey, Jake. You got a minute? The wife is at that conference until late. Thought I’d see if you needed help moving that weight bench you mentioned.”

Jake didn’t bother pretending anymore. He stepped aside, letting the bigger man walk past him. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like static. Mark’s gaze dropped immediately, the way it always did, locking onto the heavy bulge swinging beneath the thin fabric of Jake’s shorts.

They never made it to the weight bench.

This time Mark didn’t even pretend to look around the living room. The second the door clicked shut he sank to his knees right there on the hardwood, breathing hard like he’d just run up stairs. His thick fingers shook as they grabbed at Jake’s waistband.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore,” Mark rasped, voice cracking. “I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I saw you naked through the window last month. Your cock… Jesus Christ, Jake. I need to taste it. Please.”

The raw desperation on the married man’s face—flushed cheeks, wet lips already parted, eyes glassy with shame and lust—snapped something inside Jake. He hooked two fingers under Mark’s chin, tilting the older man’s head back.

“Then take it out, neighbor. Show me how bad that married mouth wants it.”